


Come Back to Me

by LeTempest



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Blood and Sand
Genre: AU, Civil War, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-05 23:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeTempest/pseuds/LeTempest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spartacus/Sura, American Civil War au, come back to me, is my request. Done for the Spartacus AU fix-a-thon over on LJ. My first dabble in AU so please tell me what you think</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Spartacus or the characters. this was just for funsies.

_All my love,  
  
Your Sura_  
  
Her hands were shaking by as she placed her pen back in the well. She closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath through her nose, like Mother had taught her. This would be the 7th letter she had sent him since his last response. Four months and their had been no word. Not even the breath of rumor. The thought haunted her in the long darkness of the night. She had seen the men they brought in, what bullets and cannon balls and bayonets could do to a man. Perhaps Father had been right, telling her not to take up as a nurse. But then again, she had never really listen to Papa's advice, where matters of the heart were concerned. That was precisely why she found herself in such a position now.  
  
He'd tried to warn her. They all had. But the moment she'd laid eyes on him, she had known. It wasn't the heart fluttering, dancing in the clouds feeling that all the story books told about. It had been almost like a sort of awareness, when their eyes had met across the room. He was charming, dashing, roguish. She was a well bred spit fire. The last two people in the world, it would seem, to ever fall in any sort of love. They had been meant for each other.   
  
The first time she'd kissed him, behind the barn, he'd smiled and joked, acting as if the such intimate touch had not shaken him. But she wasn't one easily fooled. he may have know the touch of other women, but something told her he had never felt a spark like this.  
  
"You'll never love another woman," she had teased, spiriting away from him and into the trees. The memory brought a fierce aching in her breast.  
  
Part of her wanted to be angry with him, but try as she might, the rage wouldn't come. For all his rakish ways, when the call had come, he'd answered. She knew how he felt about the owning of slaves, how it rankled him, how so often he had spoken against him. But his men had gone, and so he had remained faithful to them. No one could call him a coward, not even her father.  
  
The wind rattled the shutters and she sighed, opening her eyes. Another day. One day closer to the end of the wretched war. She looked in the mirror with a hint of distain. No amount of powder could blur the darkness beneath her eyes, and it was plain to see that, even with her stay's laced tight, the hung on her. But she couldn't help the smile that came to her lips as she felt the brush of hidden fabric beneath her bloomers.  
  
There, tied high up on her thigh, was a ribbon of worn cloth. It didn't seem much to the naked eye, just a scrap of rough, grey wool, torn from the inside edge of his uniform. But hidden under the heavy layers, hidden and so intimately close, she it brought a swell of hope. Some piece of him, not matter how small, was here with here. She could only pray to God Almighty that it was enough to bring the rest of him home.  
  
She stood, setting her shoulders firmly as she tied on her apron, and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. Her love would fight the war in the ways he knew, and she could do no less than the same.


End file.
